


Don't Mess Up

by kaehdci



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Angst, Characters Writing Fanfiction, Cute, EXO Powers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fanfiction, Female Friendship, Fluff, Friendship, Funny, Love Triangles, Maknae Oh Sehun, Male-Female Friendship, Meet-Cute, Meta, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29841648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaehdci/pseuds/kaehdci
Summary: When Ana is flown to Seoul to consult on the adaptation of her story into a drama starring EXO, she thinks this could be the start of a new chapter in her life. But right from the start, she finds that drama and real life don't always mix. Chanyeol isn't happy with his character arc, and will do anything to change it.
Relationships: Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Original Female Character(s), Park Chanyeol & Oh Sehun friendship, Park Chanyeol/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	1. Misunderstanding

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of creative fiction

_[Extract from A MARK, A ROSE, A KNIFE, Chapter 50]  
“I care about you,” said Chanyeol, reaching out to brush a stray hair behind her ear. She winced at his touch; his hands were hot like desert sand. She wondered how much of him was left; how much of the real Chanyeol was talking? Those familiar irises were now bright red, but the eyes were still his. The quiet echo that underlay everything he said, that made his normally deep voice a little higher in pitch, gave away the Monster that was lurking under his skin. Was this really how he had felt, all this time? All of the nights she had cried in his arms, the times she had taken solace in the company of a good friend, felt the warmth of his sunny personality when she was a wreck… before Minseok had come back with the Crown of Roses, when she was missing him and loving him without hope, the real Chanyeol had been there for her, a calm presence at the centre of the storm. Tears filled her eyes as she drove the dagger forward, straight into the Monster’s flame-wreathed heart._

Her story was published serially, about 500-words every day for nearly a month, gaining momentum and readers as the days went on. Ana was the first person to admit that it was probably a little bit complicated and certainly overlong. The basic structure, though, a female character in love with a tragic male lead while another romantic prospect watches helplessly from the wings, well that was the stuff dramas were made of. This love triangle at the heart of it all was the story she sold to the publishers when they contacted her, and the one they sold on to the studio that wanted to adapt it into a drama in Korea. The high-level magical hierarchy, the werewolves, the necromancy, all of it was taken on board for an adaptation, and EXO would star in it. Ana couldn’t believe her luck. Drafted in to consult on the final versions of the script and other aspects of the staging, she was flown to Seoul. This had been what she had been working towards, though she never thought the direction she would realise her ambition from would be fanfiction. She was also nervous about finally meeting EXO. She couldn’t have known what would happen, and how different the drama would turn out to be from real life. 

The company arranged for Ana to fly Business Class. She had never flown anything but Economy before, so the roomier seats and better food were an eye-opener, a glimpse of how the other half lived. She was probably supposed to land in Seoul well-rested and ready to work, but she was so determined to take full advantage of the experience that by the time the plane landed at 7:30 in the morning, she was exhausted. She tumbled her suitcase off of the conveyor belt and pushed it sluggishly out the automatic doors to the arrivals area. She had been told to expect a car to pick her up, and when she saw a sign with her name on it in the hands of a tall man, she followed it. She blinked lazily up at the driver, who was wearing a parka with the hood up. The mask and sunglasses might have tipped her off that there was something strange going on, but she was so sleep-deprived at that point that she just accepted that this was what drivers from TV drama studios looked like.  
“You had a good flight?” he asked in accented English. She nodded, and he took her luggage. By the time they reached the car park, she was a little more awake, and when he loaded her case into the back of a Benz 4x4, she started to sense that there was something amiss.  
“Wait a second,” she said, in Korean. “Can… you’re from the company, the TV company, right?”  
“Um-” He looked decidedly uncomfortable.  
“Right?”  
“I’ll take you straight to the studio building,” he said, looking around. Ana thought that he was checking to see if anybody was around. Her heart started to beat very fast. She backed away slowly, getting ready to run.  
“I’m sorry I know I should have asked this back at the airport but can I see your ID?”  
“Can we get in the car? I’ll show you my ID there,” he said. His voice was muffled by the mask he was wearing, but out here, with his hood pushed back a little, Ana finally realised who it was.  
“You’re not the driver,” she said baldly. He approached her cautiously. She couldn’t move. She was rooted by shock and nerves and the realisation that she probably looked awful after an 11-hour flight. He looked around again and checked there was no-one nearby, then lowered his hood. Bleached blonde hair bounced out around a familiar set of ears and when his big eyes turned on her she was certain she was right before he even lowered his mask. It was Park Chanyeol, from EXO. 

The car inched its way through morning traffic on the way into Seoul. Ana was too distracted by the man sitting next to her to even enjoy the view across the bridge, or her first glimpses of the city.  
“Is this- this can’t be part of your job,” she said. “Why did you pick me up?”  
“Look, Koreans are very polite,” he said, in a tone that suggested there were exceptions to that rule. “You wrote the drama and it is just good manners to meet you in person. I’m a fan of yours, actually.”  
Ana goggled at him. “A fan.”  
“Yes, your story. I read it when the company was in talks with us to make the web drama.”  
Suddenly remembering why she was in Korea in the first place, Ana felt her cheeks begin to burn; Chanyeol had read the fanfiction she had written. Just then, before she could even think of anything to say, her phone buzzed. It was a Korean number that she didn’t recognise.  
“Good morning Ana, I’m your driver, from the studio. I am at the meeting point near the arrivals area. Please come and find me when you are ready to leave the area.”  
“What?”  
The driver repeated himself. Ana didn’t know how to respond.  
“I- um- someone is already driving me towards Seoul,” she said, to the driver’s surprise. Since she already knew who was driving her, she gently advised him that she was safe in spite of his alarmed protests. She bade the driver goodbye, and hung up. She looked at her phone for a second, and then across at Chanyeol.  
“Excuse me, Mr… um, Chanyeol. Chanyeol-ssi.”  
He glanced at her and beamed. His smile was distracting. It took over his whole face. “Yes?”  
“Please don’t be offended by this but… are you kidnapping me?” Ana watched him. He didn’t answer right away. Then, he rubbed the back of his head and cleared his throat.  
“I’m driving you to the company,” he said. “But first, I wanted to meet you because I have some thoughts. About your story. And I thought this was the easiest way to talk to you before you talked to them.”

Ana was silent for so long, Chanyeol nudged her. He knew it had been a risky move, to drive all the way out to the airport when he was supposed to be reviewing scripts. When the screenplay for this drama had arrived last night with the filming schedule attached, he had poured over it to see if they had taken any of his revisions. They had told him that a major plotpoint like he was suggesting was the author’s license, and they weren’t about to mess with that. They didn’t seem to care about his opinion at all. So, seeing no other option, he had waited for dawn, then grabbed his car key and left, calling his manager on the way to find out when this writer would be getting in. He hadn’t really known what to expect from Ana; he hadn’t looked her up before this. What did writers look like anyway? When she had made her way over to him at the airport, he realised that he had expected her to be older than him, but this woman was about the same age as him. And pretty; that was unexpected.  
Now that she was here, in his car, he realised that she might construe this as kidnapping.  
“It’s not really kidnapping,” he said defensively, and she glared at him like it was worse that he had brought it up without prompting. “Ana,” he began, then faltered.  
“If I didn’t already know who you are,” she shot at him, “this would be kidnapping. I mean, it already is kidnapping, but the fact that you’re famous at least gives me a name. You know that this is so wrong, don’t you?”  
“Yes,” he conceded, tapping his fingers nervously on the steering wheel. He pressed a button on the console display. “This is the company’s address, right?”  
“I don’t know that,” she snapped.  
“Well… check emails or something and see. This is the address, right? I’m following these directions. If I deviate, you’ll know, okay?” He tried smiling at her, putting as much cheer as he could into it. She just stared at him, then sat facing forward again, folding her hands in her lap. Her hands were trembling. Chanyeol instantly felt terrible, even worse than he already felt which was pretty bad. He knew that what he was doing was undignified, but he had to try talking to her. He was tired of being typecast, and the whole yawning chasm of his future career was opening out in front of him. He liked acting - had always liked it - and he wanted to keep doing it when he wasn’t making music, but not if he was constantly being cast as entitled and toxic. He didn’t want to think about how his first lead role in drama years ago had been playing a horribly rendered version of himself, a character that bore no relation to who he really was. And that trend had continued. It was cruel that in other things where he didn’t have to play a jerk, he frequently ended up playing weirdos. In the year since his military discharge, in the year he had been waiting for the others to return from service so they could go back to making music as a full group, he had played a gangster and an evil ex boyfriend. He just wanted to go back to being a musician but the company had insisted on this drama to relaunch them as a group. There were people out there who didn’t really know who he was as EXO Chanyeol, and he didn’t want them to think he was a scumbag from the start. The thought of it spurred him on, even though she was clearly not in the mood.  
“Look, since we’re here anyway, I wanted to talk to you about the script.”  
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Ana was glaring at him again.  
“Are you serious?”  
“Yes,” he said. “Please.”  
She snorted what might have been a laugh but she covered it with a small cough. “What’s wrong with my script? You’re used to working with better writers, is that it? I know I’m not a native Korean speaker-”  
“That’s not it,” he said quickly. “Your Korean is very good, actually.”  
“Thank you,” she muttered.  
“When did you learn?”  
“University,” she said. “I studied in Busan for a year, back… a couple of years ago.”  
“Ah.”  
“Anyway,” Ana went on, “I worked with one of the company’s screenwriters on the initial drafts of the script, so there shouldn’t be any issues with the language. I’m sure they’ll let you ad lib. The bones of the script are my original story, but we’re still rewriting all of the dialogue. And they told me it might all change again once we start filming.”  
Chanyeol waited for her to finish. She sounded nervous, and maybe this - talking about her work - was putting her at ease. This wasn’t what he wanted to talk to her about, but the closer they got to the centre of Seoul, the more nervous he felt about bringing it up. She clearly had a certain idea about him now, and it probably wasn’t going to be solved now by this ill-thought out, albeit minor, abduction.  
“I was actually hoping we could have a conversation about one of the plot points.”  
“Oh? Which one?” She sounded defensive; not a good start.  
“Mine.”  
“What about it? Your character arc is good. It’s complex,” she said, sounding bemused. Chanyeol chanced a glance at her and saw that she was frowning. Her hands had stopped shaking.  
“I know,” Chanyeol went on, “but I was wondering if there might be a chance that you might maybe consider, if you could, changing my role.”  
Silence.  
Chanyeol didn’t get a chance to look at her because at that second, the GPS advised him that he had to exit the highway, and there was a tricky lane-switch coming up. He overtook two of the slower cars in front and navigated his way onto the city streets, heading for Hongdae.  
“How?” Ana said eventually.  
“I don’t want to be the villain,” he said.  
“But your character becomes the main antagonist. If your role is changed, then we don’t have an ending. Or much of a story, to be honest.”  
“Can’t we? Does there have to be a villain?” Chanyeol could hear how stupid it sounded, how petty it might seem to someone who didn’t know what he was really asking for here. “I want to be the hero, the good guy.” He nodded to himself. Then, Ana suddenly burst into a fit of giggles and Chanyeol almost hit the kerb in shock.


	2. Drama

_[Extract from A MARK, A ROSE, A KNIFE, Chapter 1]  
An Other was hard to spot. There was probably only one in a hundred million, so when they found each other, there was an undeniable attraction there. That attraction would either manifest in friendship or loathing. Wolves usually banded into packs, but mages and elementals tended to live by themselves, dispersed all over the planet. When you’re born as an Other, there really is no one else you can turn to. She had been lonely since she was twelve years old, since the first time she Changed by accident in a bathroom cubicle at school. When she first met EXO at a fansign in Busan, she knew as soon as she made eye contact with one of them that they were Other. They all were. Minseok was the first one she met, the first person to ever see her for what she was - one of them._

“We’ll have a formal read-through once the ink is dry on the contracts, but for now please feel at home,” the studio boss said, after bowing to Ana again. He seemed very busy, and the producer waved over his assistant to escort him on to his next engagement. When he was gone, the producer - a Swede whose name she kept forgetting in her exhaustion - gestured to Ana to sit. Her jetlag was starting to set in now and she really wished she’d slept on the plane. She stifled a yawn. What adrenaline being around Chanyeol had inspired had now sapped away. She really wished she had been able to sleep in the car, instead of having to put up with his nonsense for the entire duration.   
“I know all this paper seems wasteful, but it’s just how things are done in this place,” the producer said, handing her a fresh contract or NDA or licensing agreement every time she signed her name. She had had a lawyer go through all of these in e-format back home, so she just skimmed them and signed.  
Ana felt her eyes get heavy. It had been nearly fifteen hours since she arrived at the airport for her flight to Seoul. Her friend Lena had come with her to the airport to see her off. Less than 24 hours ago, this had seemed like an exciting, romantic adventure. The inanity and sheer volume of the paperwork was driving it home to Ana that, fanfiction-worthy kidnapping incident aside, this whole thing might be a lot more mundane than she realised.   
“Do you have any questions for us? We’ve set up a meeting for you with the screenwriters tomorrow. We’ll introduce you to the actors, then,” he said this like it should have been a treat and in another timeline it might have been.   
She had decided not to tell them about her abduction by Chanyeol, or the fight that had ensued in the car once she had assured him that she was not about to change a major plotpoint a week before production of the adaptation of her work. It wouldn’t solve anything, and she felt it was kind of arrogant of him to assume that he could change her mind. Still, she didn’t want to get him into trouble. What he had done had been misguided and inconsiderate, but harmless.   
The producer’s phone buzzed and his face lit up, as she scratched her name on the last document.   
“One of the EXO members is downstairs now,” he said. “He wanted to meet you today, and there was a gap in his schedule. He was interested in talking to you about his character arc. Do you want to come with me? I’ll call someone to drive you to your hotel then.”   
Ana almost rolled her eyes. Chanyeol had dropped her in front of the building with a goodbye that was forced through habitual politeness. He had not been happy. She couldn’t believe he was back already, trying a different angle. This was far removed from the celebrity persona she was so familiar with, oddly enough closer to the fictional personality that she had written on the page. She wasn’t going to show these people that she was difficult to work with, though. This kind of gig was a dream come true; maybe it could lead somewhere else if she could only get through the next few weeks.   
As they rode the elevator to the staff lounge on the third floor, Ana shut her eyes, thankful the producer and his production assistant were immersed in their own conversation so she didn’t have to try. She was vividly picturing a warm shower and crisp, clean hotel sheets, when the ding of the elevator jarred her out of her half-awake state. She followed them out and down a corridor into a kind of hipster cafe. When she looked up through bleary eyes expecting to be glared at by Chanyeol again, she was met instead by the steady, friendly, and utterly arresting gaze of Kim Minseok. Her hand shot to her hair, fully aware that it was probably a nest of tangles and frizz at this stage.   
“Hello,” Minseok said, bowing slightly and extending his hand. “I’m Kim Minseok. Nice to meet you. I had a few minutes free so we came over to check on the production schedule and to meet you, of course.” He beamed at her, his uneven, toothy smile alarming in its sincerity. Ana bowed herself and muttered her hellos as best she could. He was difficult to look at straight-on. Where she had had a few minutes to get used to Chanyeol as the suspicion of who he was had solidified in her mind while he packed her suitcase into the car, being presented with EXO’s Xiumin with no forewarning was like a suckerpunch. He was gorgeous. She looked away, realising she was staring.   
The producer was advising his manager on the proposed filming schedule, and Minseok was following their conversation interestedly, casting occasional glances and encouraging smiles in Ana’s direction. She tried to return them, working through her alarm, until finally - mercifully - a man in a blue shirt tapped her on the shoulder and advised her that he would drive her to her hotel. She almost hugged him. Bidding the production team, Minseok, and his manager goodbye while only looking at Minseok was unavoidable; he was magnetic. So, she excused herself as quickly as she could and then practically ran after the driver.


	3. Script

_[Extract from A MARK, A ROSE, A KNIFE, Chapter 27]  
The stories all said that the King of Flowers was good and just. He was always depicted as a strong ruler with the burden of his realm forever on his mind. She remembered one stained glass rendering, in the church on the ley line north of Adelaide. He was all in red, with a dirk on his belt and a flute in his hand, flanked by the Five, the Necromancer a shadow in the darkness over his left shoulder, the Cormorant Mage a splash of white over his right. The phoenix was wreathed in fire above. The tableau in front of her when she came to the dorm, the day after Minseok walked out of the fog, was like a mockery of that window: Minseok sprawled in the centre of the couch with the five werewolves arrayed around him. Sehun leaned over the back, playing with Jongin’s long hair, while Kyungsoo sat on the left arm-rest, watching Chanyeol where he gazed out the window. Nothing about this scene suggested goodness._

The next few days were a blur. Ana was picked up in the mornings and dropped off in the middle of the night, spending long days with the team of screenwriters who were adapting her story, meeting with the director and the producer and casting director. She had long working lunches and quick cup-noodle dinners and breakfast where she could find it. A week passed before the scheduled read-through happened and she met either Minseok or Chanyeol again.   
She was at the read-through as an observer, an aid to the screen-writers in case there were any edits or queries from the actors that involved the wider story and not just the scene in question. She hung around the side of the room clutching a cup of coffee while the actors filed in. Someone tapped her on the shoulder while she was taking a surreptitious sip, and she almost spit hot coffee on Chanyeol’s white t-shirt as she turned.   
“Hello,” he said sheepishly. He seemed to be in a better mood than he’d been the last time she saw him.  
“Oh, hi,” she said. “I mean, hello.” Chanyeol grinned at her.  
“We’re old friends now, if you really want to drop the honorifics,” he gave her a small bow, and she glared at him. He stopped smiling and looked apologetic again. They stood awkwardly for a couple of seconds, before they were joined by another tall man. Ana didn’t need an introduction to recognise Sehun, which was good because he jumped straight into the conversation.   
“There’s no tea,” he announced by way of greeting.   
“Ask the manager to get you some,” Chanyeol advised him, and Sehun’s face lit up like it had never occurred to him in his career of having people get things for him that he could just ask someone to get him the thing he wanted. He turned to her, took in her appearance, and then looked to Chanyeol again.   
“Hyung, who…?”  
“This is the writer, the original writer,” Chanyeol said. “The one who wrote the story. Ana.” He then introduced her formally and Sehun bowed to her.   
“Nice to meet you,” Ana said, and Sehun waved his hand like he knew it was nice to meet him. He was very handsome up close, less powerfully built than Chanyeol but just as broad. He was wearing his hair long and kept brushing it back from his face like he was in the middle of a photoshoot.  
“I like your story,” he said, making her blush. “The part in the middle where Jongin and Yixing and the dead people witch-man-”  
“The Necromancer,” Ana clarified.  
“Yes, him. The part where they all fight the police. That’s the best part. I wanted to play him but they said I had to play myself. Kyungsoo-hyung is so lucky.” Sehun pouted a little and he threw a jealous yet affectionate glance at D.O., who was sitting by himself at the big table in the centre of the room, quietly reading his script. Ana was worried for a second that Sehun was serious about not liking his role - after all, he wouldn’t be the first one - but his impish expression when he looked back at her and winked told her that he wasn’t serious.  
“We should sit down,” Chanyeol took Sehun by the elbow. “Nice to see you again, Ana.”  
“Again?” Sehun said, surprised, looking back at Ana with renewed interest. “When did you see her before?”  
“Not now,” Chanyeol said and gave Ana a final apologetic bow before they joined the others at the table. Ana saw Minseok at the far end of the room with some of the other members who she hadn’t been introduced to yet. She knew them all by sight, obviously, but apart from Chanyeol last week, and Sehun just now, Minseok was the only one she had actually met, and the only one she had actually met officially. She caught his eye and felt her face go red, and when he gave her an awkward wave she couldn’t help but smile stupidly that he had recognised her.   
She ducked out of sight and went back to the table with the coffee, refilling her cup even though she didn’t want any. She hid back there until the read-through started, and then joined the writers at their own table, in the corner. 

There was a party later. Some of EXO had schedules tonight or tomorrow and excused themselves, but Minseok and Chanyeol were coming. As the main actors in the drama, they were expected to socialise with the other actors, even as the others - with their mostly-cameo roles - could drop in and out of the production as required. Junmyeon and Sehun also came along. Ana was introduced to Junmyeon by Minseok at the end of the read-through, as everyone was packing to leave.   
“I really liked your story,” Junmyeon said, shaking her hand and beaming at her. He spoke in accented English, seemingly delighted to have someone to talk to. In his horn-rimmed Ray-Bans and houndstooth blazer, he could almost pass for a TOEIC teacher. If TOEIC teachers looked like that. Ana tried to remember everything about his appearance to relay to her best friend Lena later, as she had done with all of the members (apart from maybe Chanyeol, but that one had been a bit of a surprise introduction). Since it was unseemly to whip out her camera and take a picture of him while he was trying to be friendly, Ana decided it was best to take mental pictures and dish to her friend later.   
“Thank you,” Ana said shyly. Everybody was filing out of the room and Jumeyon stepped aside, holding his arm out like he expected them to walk out together. There was something old fashioned about his manners and it was difficult not to be charmed by him. She fell into step beside him.   
“The characters are great,” he went on, still talking about the story. “I like how you’ve drawn Sehunnie as a kind of mad genius, it’s… well, it kind of makes sense. I don’t know how they’re going to get him to do that thing in the cave, with the eyes. He’s terrified of the dark-”  
“Hyung!” Sehun barked indignantly from behind them, but didn’t follow this up with any defence.   
“I don’t know if they’ll film it exactly how it’s written,” Ana said. Sehun stepped into the elevator with them and turned to face her.  
“I won’t do the dark scene if they ask,” he said, matter-of-factly.  
“I don’t really have a say-”  
“But if someone does it with me, or can sit in the cave with me, I’ll do it,” Sehun said this like it was a fair trade and not something that had nothing at all to do with Ana as just a script and storyline consultant. She could tell that there was no trying to explain this to Sehun, though. He had already turned away. She just nodded and shrugged at Junmyeon, who gave her a reassuring smile in response. This was clearly behaviour he was used to.

Dinner was a messy, crowded affair, with over a dozen people crammed into the private room in the basement lounge of a nearby restaurant. Ana was sandwiched between the Swedish producer and the excitable main actress who asked incessant questions about her character as soon as she found out that Ana had written her in the first place. Ana wasn’t good with attention like this, and she compensated for her anxiety by drinking, steadily, throughout the night. 

Chanyeol glanced down the table to where Ana was sitting next to Eun-a and the producer. She looked overwhelmed, a little startled that the focus seemed to be on her. He had started the day feeling apprehensive, and this whole evening was doing nothing for that. All through his morning workout session he had tried to distract himself from having to face Ana again, but when he arrived at the studio for the read-through, she had been the first person he saw. All of his attempts to open up some discussion about the script by official channels had been quickly shut down. He had been told, unequivocally, that his role in the drama was fixed. He was, once again, playing an entitled idiot with an attitude problem and a nice-guys-finish-last approach. Except this time his toxic attitude was going to endanger the world. He was tired of this. He wanted to be the good, considerate one. He wanted to be the one who won in the end for once, because good always beats bad in these stories. The character Ana had written for Minseok was inherently good. Why couldn’t she have written a character like that for him? She infuriated him, this writer. She was drinking heavily, too. Chanyeol looked around the table but he couldn’t see anyone who looked like a driver. How was she going to get back to her hotel? He wished people would start leaving; he wanted to talk to her. He didn’t know what he was going to say, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to relax until he did.  
Junmyeon nudged him and he started.  
“We’re leaving soon,” he said. “The van is going back to the dorm, but we can drop you at your place if you want. You didn’t drive right?” Chanyeol blinked at him, his mind racing to catch up. “Are you okay?” Junmyeon put his hand on his shoulder.   
“No, I didn’t drive,” Chanyeol said, holding up the empty coke can next to him. “I’m fine, I haven’t had anything to drink. I think I’ll stay.”  
Junmyeon just shrugged, and a few minutes later stood up with a tired-looking Sehun and Minseok.   
“You’re staying?” Minseok asked, when he saw that Chanyeol hadn’t moved.  
“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Chanyeol said. Minseok nodded, looked along the table and waved in that general direction, then followed the others.   
Gradually, the restaurant emptied out. The studio head had paid for everything already, so it was only the serious drinkers who were staying. For Chanyeol, it was getting harder and harder to justify being there, and Eun-a, who he knew from way back, was starting to get the kind of look that told him that she thought he was staying for her. Finally, _finally_ , Ana stood up on unsteady legs and announced her departure. He had been aware that she had thrown back everything that had been put in front of her all night, beer and soju and beer-with-soju. He had been hoping to have a short conversation with her, to apologise for his behaviour last week, but once he started thinking about how she was going to get back to her hotel, he hadn’t been able to stop. She pushed her hair back, wearing the dignified expression of the inebriated who insist that they’re stone-cold sober, and announced, in English, that she “was shit-faced.”  
“She’s funny,” Chanyeol muttered, surprising himself. He glanced around but no one seemed to hear him. He tried not to look too interested as she had a short conversation with the producer, and then left. Chanyeol waited a minute or so before he said his own goodbyes.   
He walked slowly up the stairs, but as soon as he was out of sight of the table, he sped up and burst out the front door of the restaurant, looking up and down the street. She had been just ahead of him, but he couldn’t see her. Had he missed her?  
“Shit,” he muttered.  
“What’s shit?” a voice behind him made him swing around. It was Ana. She looked surly.   
“Nothing,” he said quickly. “Are you ready to go?”   
Ana was shrugging on her coat. She must have left it in the cloakroom, and had been getting it all this time. He remembered that he had left his own coat in the van. It was only early October but a bitter wind was gusting up from the river.   
“I don’t think I’m going where you’re going,” she said. Chanyeol shoved his hands in his pockets.   
“No,” he said, trying to disguise how cold he was. “But you’re new to the city. You shouldn’t walk around by yourself at night.”   
Ana scoffed, but she joined him on the sidewalk and they started to walk in the direction of her hotel. He didn’t know where they were putting her up, exactly, but he assumed it would be somewhere nearby.   
“My friend Lena says I do that too often and I should stop,” Ana said suddenly.  
“Do what?”  
“Walk home alone after a few drinks.”  
“Is it safe, your city?” Chanyeol repressed his first instinct which was to agree with her friend.   
“It’s as safe as anywhere else,” she said. “But I’m a grown woman. I can walk home alone.”  
Chanyeol only nodded. He didn’t think Ana would respond well to a reprimand from a stranger about her own personal safety. She seemed like a kind of a belligerent drunk, so he believed her when she said she could take care of herself. He tried not to smile; her resolve was kind of charming.   
“That place is nice for coffee,” she said, pointing at a kiosk that was closed now. “I go there in the mornings because the coffee at the studio is kind of bad.” Chanyeol nodded, unsure why she was telling him this. She lapsed into silence for a couple of seconds. Then, “Did you talk to your manager or someone about changing the script?” Her voice had an edge to it again. Chanyeol immediately felt terrible.  
“Ana, I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “No, I didn’t bring it up with them again, since they said no anyway, but that’s not all. I’m sorry, for the airport, I shouldn’t have-”  
“Kidnapped me?”  
“I shouldn’t have picked you up. Kidnapped you,” he said heavily. “I guess I didn’t really see it as that. I didn’t really think at all.”   
Ana nodded, but didn’t say anything.   
“I am sorry,” he said again. He had his reasons but now wasn’t the time for that, and none of his reasons justified his behaviour. He just wanted to clear the air.   
“Okay,” she said, waving like she wanted him to stop talking, so he did. They walked in silence for a minute, but it wasn’t awkward. She was weaving a bit, and he stayed on the outside of her so she wouldn’t accidentally stray into the road, but otherwise he found her company… companionable.   
“Do you like it here?” he asked, suddenly curious. Ana shrugged.  
“I’ve been here before, but I was a student then, we really only went to clubs and stuff. I wanted to do some tourist stuff this time. I haven’t seen much of the city,” she said. “I’ve just been working.”   
“That sucks.”  
“Kind of. I like being here, though. This is kind of what I wanted to do, for years, move to Korea. It’s why I learned Korean, specialised in East Asian literature at university… I thought I wanted to be an actor at first, or a translator for a while, books and stuff, but I prefer writing.”   
She seemed to have forgotten that she was mad at him. He seized on that and ran with it.   
“Do you think you want to stay here? After the drama, if you can.”   
“I think I like the idea of living here,” she said carefully. She was still drunk but she said this with the practiced air of someone who had really thought about it.   
“It’s a good city,” he said, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say and it was true.  
“Seems like it. I’d like to see more of it. Maybe my introduction to Seoul this time wasn’t the most conducive to liking it. I’ve never been kidnapped from the airport back home.”   
Her voice took on a wry tone so he thought she was finally relaxing around him, but then she stopped on the middle of the sidewalk and fixed him with a look. He had to backtrack. “Ana I really am sorry. Please believe me.”  
“I know,” she said. She looked up at the building beside them. “This is my hotel.” She stumbled a bit. She must be even drunker than he thought. Chanyeol reached out and held her shoulder, without thinking.   
“Are you okay?” he asked.  
“Fine,” she said. “This is my hotel.”  
“Yeah you said that already,” he said, taking his hand back. He wrapped his arms around his midriff, hugging his thin sweater to his body. “Go in, I’ll wait.”  
Ana frowned at him.   
“Why?”  
“Why?”  
“Yeah, why would you wait for me to go in?” She stepped back and stumbled a bit; Chanyeol reached out to steady her again.   
“Because you’re a guest in the city,” he said diplomatically, not wanting to let her know that part of the reason he wanted to make sure she got home was because she was plastered. “And I’m a member of the representative idol group of Korea. It’s my job to represent my country to foreigners. I want to make sure you get home safe.”  
She eyed him skeptically for a couple of seconds, then chuckled and shrugged and walked into the hotel. She stopped at the door and ran back to him.   
“You’re cold,” she said matter-of-factly. “You don’t have a coat.”  
“No, but I’ll get a taxi,” he assured her. She shook her head, tutting, and shrugged out of her parka. She shoved the coat into his arms, and pushed him slightly because she was still unsteady on her feet.  
“You’ll get sick,” she said quietly, then ran into the hotel.  
Chanyeol stood on the street, watching her line up for the elevator and get on without a backward glance, and when she was out of sight, he started laughing and couldn’t stop. He held out the parka and tried to get his arms into it. It almost just fit.


End file.
